


Just a Great, Big Band in the Sky

by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)



Series: The Castiel Series - Fall from Grace [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fear, Gen, Phobias, Thunder and Lightning, Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-20 01:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2410643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/Cumberbatch%20Critter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel experiences his first thunderstorm after turning human. He realizes that they're a lot different from the human perceptive than from an angel's.</p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <i>"It's not panic. It's not fear, either. Still, his senses are on high-alert. It's almost how he feels before he's about to go into a large battle, generally with Dean and Sam, except that there is no battle and there is no real reason for him to be feeling this way."</i>
  </p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Great, Big Band in the Sky

It's remarkable, Castiel thinks, how entirely _different_ everything is when you're a human being.

As an angel, very little had affected him. He could have gone eternity without eating or sleeping. He would have never died of dehydration or heat exhaustion. But that had been when he was an angel, and, well, after the scheme of things, he isn't an angel now. In fact, Castiel knows that he's hardly the same being that he had been years ago. Things have changed that much.

But it's remarkable, really, how angel perception is so much different than human perception. The first time that Castiel had ever stepped foot before Dean Winchester, he had caused a lightning storm so intense that the roof had nearly clean lifted off of the barn that he had met Dean in. But now, now it's storming, pitch-black outside except for the bright flashes of lightning that now hurt Castiel's eyes, and Castiel finds himself a little bit... uneasy.

It's not panic. He's familiar with that particular emotion. He had even felt it on certain occasions, the brightest and most unforgettable being when he had saw Lucifer in that tiny little cramped white room in the mental institute after his reawakening. It's not fear, either. Castiel thinks that what he's feeling now is a little closer to fear than it is to panic, but he isn't going to bolt from the safe haven of the hotel bed because of the storm.

Still, his senses are on high-alert. It's almost how he feels before he's about to go into a large battle, generally with Dean and Sam, except that there is no battle and there is no real reason for him to be feeling this way. It's just the thunder, and the lightning, and he catches himself flinching every so often when either or gets so loud or so bright.

Like now, as the lightning outside the windows flare the room a shocking white, and Castiel flinches again and slams his eyes closed. The afterimage burns and he tries to blink it away; when he opens his eyes again, he finds green eyes staring at him from the next bed over.

Castiel isn't quite sure what he's supposed to say, or if he's expected to do anything. Human particulars are still murky at best for him, and Dean Winchester isn't exactly the type to go to bed and then not sleep a solid eight hours, or until morning comes. Castiel, as he comes to think about it, has never seen Dean wake up in the middle of the night except for dogged, half-unconscious moments where Dean, having had gone on a bender the night before, hauled himself to the bathroom to either use the facilities or throw up.

Thunder cracks again. It's infinitely louder this time, and actually seems to crack instead of roll. Castiel's body jerks with a wince. That noise cannot possibly be right for a thunderstorm, but neither Dean nor Sam - who's currently on the sofa, and, as far as Castiel can tell, completely unconscious - seem bothered. Castiel's nerves pull tight and then snap again at the consequent lightning that follows the thunder. His stomach seems to not be agreeing with the weather anymore, either, as he's starting to feel a little more jittery and slightly sick as the storm progresses.

"You scared, Cas?"

Castiel opens his eyes again and seeks out the green orbs staring at him in the semi-darkness of the room. There's a certain humor to Dean's features, and Castiel thinks that this might be a jest on his behalf, but he decides to answer truthfully nonetheless. "I'm not sure," he says aloud, and his voice is deep from interrupted sleep, rough and rolling like the thunder outside.

Dean smiles sleepily, almost a smirk but not quite there. "I was kiddin', Cas." He yawns just then, widely, stretching his arms above his head briefly. He then grabs at the pillow and pulls it closer, resettling his head on it. "Just a storm. It'll blow over soon."

Castiel shifts for a better position, as his arm is going numb beneath his side. He hasn't quite gotten the hang of sleeping yet, either; he more often than not ends up with at least one limb or extremity going numb from being laid upon. Sleeping is, however, extremely satisfying after a hunt. "Do thunderstorms generally sound so loud to human ears?" he asks out loud, over the roll of thunder off in the vast night sky.

Dean's eyes have closed again, and he doesn't open them. "Sometimes," he mumbled. "They never fail to wake me up." He tilts his head down, better leverage to open his eyes and inspect Castiel again. "And then Gigantor over there always sleep through them. Must be the life. Ugh. I just want to sleep." He yawns, again, and Castiel is transfixed enough by the motion that he ends up yawning for himself, too.

Dean laughs at this, muffling it into his pillow. "Contagious yawns, Cas."

Castiel ignores the gleam of laughter in Dean's eyes and tries very hard not to yawn again. Like Dean, he would much rather be sleeping right now, but, as another clap of thunder makes him shift position yet again unconsciously, he doesn't think that he'll be able to doze off until the storm has passed.

"It must be close," Dean mutters, and his mattress squeaks as he tries to find a spot where relaxation will take over again, Castiel thinks, because he's trying to do the same himself. "God's very own marching band."

Castiel's fingers clench reflexively around the corner of his pillowcase as the bright light floods the room. Maybe he is, in fact, slightly frightened by experiencing a new phenomenon. He tries to focus on other things. "Marching band?" he asks plaintively.

Dean shrugs. "Somethin' us kids were always told. Thunder was always God playing in a band. You know, drums and things."

Castiel blinks, thunderstorm momentarily forgotten. "God has never played in a band."

Dean sighs. "Yeah, Cas, I know that, it's just... you don't know where thunder comes from when you're a kid, so your parents tell you God's got a drum and he's thumping out some '70s hard rock."

"Oh." Castiel frowns. He folds his arm underneath his head, pulling the blanket up. His frown deepens when the blanket falls into his face and partially obscures his vision, but he doesn't move it. It would appear to have some benefit for blocking out the lightning. And speaking of... "If thunder is supposed to be a drum in a band, what is the explanation for lightning?"

Dean's hand snakes up from the blanket and his fingers rub at his eyes. "Fireworks. When there's lightning, God's playing with fireworks."

 _Fireworks and a marching band._ That's the human child explanation for a thunderstorm and the phenomenon involved with it; that's the point Castiel has taken from this conversation. Unfortunately, he is not a child, nor does a made-up story have any effect on the way the storm is making him react.

"Just one big raucous party up there within the pearly gates."

Castiel almost says that there are no gates to heaven, let alone the color or state of them, but he suddenly remembers having had the conversation before. _Figure of speech_ , he thinks it's called. "There are rarely raucous parties within Heaven's gates," he says instead, peering out from behind the blanket draping into his face.

Dean just grins and rolls his eyes. "Yeah, sure, Cas, you're totally ruining my perfect vision of a thunderstorm. Go back to sleep, man," he continues, rolling over onto his stomach. "Id'll be over shoon, anyway." His voice is muffled from where his face presses into the pillow.

Without question, Castiel believes him. Dean has had more experience with thunderstorms. It also helps that Castiel can hear a difference in the thunder and feel a difference in the air. The atmosphere doesn't seem to be as charged as it was five minutes ago. The storm must be moving away.

Castiel is glad that the 'big raucous party' isn't going to last much longer than it has been. He's never really been one for giant social gatherings, to begin with.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, I don't think Cas would be terribly afraid of thunderstorms, given certain events in past seasons, but his first one as a human would have probably felt different for him, so - thunderstorm gen!Destiel fic. I'm pretty happy with this one, actually ;p
> 
> I do not own _Supernatural_. Thanks for reading!


End file.
